


Safe & Sound

by larkingstock



Series: prompt nonsense [1]
Category: Pitch Black (2000)
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Prompt Fic, one-sided, takin' a break from all your worries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 10:40:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13588353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larkingstock/pseuds/larkingstock
Summary: That little skiff is...well, not very big.





	Safe & Sound

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: **masturbation**
> 
>  
> 
> The prompt nonsense series: the ongoing travails of one anon's quest to reacquire their errant writing mojo, with no guarantee of consistency, continuity, compliancy, or character appreciation.

It's dark. Not like the planet, cold and gritty and wide open to sharp shapes of swooping terror. It's small, sealed, _warm_ dark, floating through empty black space, with dim lights on the cockpit panel blinking over rounded forms of the two slumbering men seated in front of them. It's as safe as anything--light or dark--ever gets, and Jack should be sleeping too.

Jack is not sleeping. She's looking down the length of her legs, past her feet, studying them in the dark. The Imam, she's certain, is deep asleep, but Riddick...she shivers, slightly. How could you ever know?

She shivers again, and it's not helping her, she's never going to get to sleep like this. She might actually have better luck with the terror and the monsters roaming the night than...this. Too-cramped quarters with a murderer who came back for her with Fry, who protected her, who smiles at her and is kind to her, who teaches her how to fly this dinky piece of shit, patient instructions that wrap around her, rumbling right down her belly to pool between her legs. A murderer with shining animal eyes who tonight actually laughed with her, a deep amused ripple that sounded like the taste of blood, still prowling through every nerve in her body and chasing away sleep like startled prey.

He looks, he _seems_...asleep. She hasn't done this much. Hasn't been _safe_ enough to do this much, since her body started whispering back to her the things she'd seen others doing, saying, started pulling those things inside and building up meaning out of them for herself. Like a small kindling fire in the cradle of her body, keeping the dark empty at bay, now feeding on the same thing that makes her scared to do anything about it.

Jack bites her lip, tries to keep her breathing regular, even as she can't help sliding her hand under her pants. Her belly is already clenching with her own touch, she _needs_ it, so bad, and he...he's asleep, she's sure of it.

She's _not_ sure of it. But she's so fucked, she can't even seem to care, and if she keeps her breath steady and light, maybe he won't even notice. (He'll notice.) She can't keep her fingers from pushing lower (god, please, fuck, _please_ be asleep) and the first touch feels _so good_ she has to strangle her gasp, FUCK, oh fuck. Oh jesus, she's so wet, how long has her body been silently making all this stuff down there, it's all over her fingers and every stroke is _so...fucking...GOOD_...

She hears her own tiny whimper but it doesn't mean anything, nothing means anything but the roar of sensation bursting, flames of it up from her groin, licking up her spine, her neck, curling over through her chest, down her thighs as she rubs harder, stoking it as fast as she can go. She's glowing, she's _blazing_ with it, she'll never be dark again. She's getting a cramp in her wrist but she can't stop, she can't ever stop. She's getting close, she can feel it, almost in reach of that peak she's only found a few times before, she _needs_ to get there and she's _so close_ , almost...

She must make another low noise because her ears hear something that's _not_ that, that doesn't line up with the near-inaudible pump and press of her hand, something that...shifts in the pilot seat, heavy and near silent itself and he might as well have announced his name, she's learned the sound of him so deep.

Jack's eyes fly open and _his_ eyes gleam in the safe warm dark, bright and amused, echoing metallic with his laugh still rolling around inside her, tasting like he'd _smelled_ her, it's how _she_ would have tasted, only a few weeks ago, right where her fingers are, right _there_ \--

Jack spasms, choking her moan until she sounds like some wounded creature (some dying human being) and she loses sight of his eyes for a darkness so shot-through with pleasure it paints her vision star-ending bright.

She doesn't know how long it takes her to come down enough to get what she's just done, but it's not long enough. She wants to lie here curled up in the eyes-shut, cheeks-burning dark and pretend none of it ever happened, that she's been asleep the whole time, but that's even more impossible. Maybe, just maybe, she'll get lucky and _he'll_ have closed those eyes away, lying there in the dark pretending it never happened. Except that's wishful thinking bullshit for limpdicks who have no hope of surviving this universe, and that's not Jack, and if it's not Jack it sure as fucking _hell_ isn't Riddick.

She has to hold her breath to do it, but Jack opens her eyes.


End file.
